


Hark, The Harold Angel Sings

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas fic, Costumes, Domesticated, Elf Louis, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Santa Harry, Smut, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: An ode to Naughty or Nice by noellehenry





	Hark, The Harold Angel Sings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi  
> Credit to: Elesbells for title and contribution to content
> 
> Harry Christmas and Happy Lou Year ;)
> 
> Ang

 

“Lou? Lou, are you home?”

Harry pushed through the half-open porch door with his elbow, clumsily negotiating his way inside the living room with his cluster of shopping bags; the thick paper design of them with string rope handles that were cutting into his gloved hands.

The bags tumbled on to the sofa, Harry moving to turn on the electric fireplace and twisting to pull something out of one of his bags, unrolling it to lay it in front of the hearth with a satisfied tug of his lips.

He plucked up one of the bags with a secret smug smile and tucked the tissue paper in gently where a flash of red cloth and white fur had been poking out.

“Louis?” He called out again as he climbed the stairs.

Louis had headed home when Harry told him he wanted to shop for his present, offering to wait at a nearby cafe and hold a taxi for them both until Harry was ready but Harry had insisted that Louis go straight home to get the kettle on and cut some of Harry’s ginger cake ready for his later arrival.

Sliding into the hall bathroom, Harry wondered if Louis had actually made it home at all; or if a stall selling hot spiced wine might have distracted him. Or more likely, he'd ducked into one of the crowded pubs to catch the footie highlights while sneaking a quick beer.

Harry undressed himself, folding up his clothes neatly and reaching into the bag for his new outfit, the rustle of the tissue paper echoing off the walls.

“Shh,” he told the wrapping with a silly giggle, biting his lip to curb the sound. He may or may not have indulged in his own alcoholic beverage before catching a taxi home.

A beautiful creamy Snowball cocktail had seemed a fitting boost after the long day trekking around shops and battling other Christmas shoppers.

It might go some way to explain the gratuitous Santa costume he was pulling from the paper gift bag, too.

He stuck his legs into the trousers, sliding on the jacket, fingers labouring to button it up with the outsize buttons until he gave up with a shrug and left it loose at the front .

He jammed the hat over his thick hair and tilted his head at the fake beard nestled at the bottom on the bag, the furry white facial wig easily hooked over his ears with small metal arms like glasses.

“Fuck it,” He huffed and fixed it into place.

He was sure Louis would see the funny side of it.

And—

_Louis_

Where was he?

Harry opened the bathroom door and peeked into the hallway, hoping Louis had decided to lay down on the bed for a rest. He licked his lips as his breathing quickened in anticipation, palm settling on the bedroom door which was pushed up but not shut completely.

“Lou?” he called once more before pushing the door open to step inside.

Harry froze, mouth falling open and eyes blinking in muted shock at what he found there.

“L-Louis?” He stammered.

It was certainly Louis. Harry knew his husband well enough to recognise him anywhere in any form. But. Holy _fuck._

He was dressed as an _Elf._

Louis' eyes immediately flickered over Harry and that perusal drew a short bark of laughter from his smug mouth.

“Oh, hi, boss,” Louis quickly adapted to the situation at hand. “Missing a worker?”

_Fuck._

He looked _perfect_. A long sleeved green tunic with all the details he would expect- toggle fixtures, embroidered pockets and a star shaped collar; was paired with a green hat with a bell on it and—

Harry’s eyes dipped lower, fixed in place. Red and white striped tights looked ridiculously obscene pulled over Louis' lovely legs, the tunic barely covering his behind when he span around to give Harry a full look at the costume.

“Y-yeah,” he managed to grunt, clearing his throat. “Came all the way from Lapland to find my best Elf...”

Louis smiled, delighted, eyes dipping to his chest more often than not.

“Hope Santa hasn’t been playing around with the _other_ elves...”

Harry blinked and grinned, walking fully into the room with a determined stride, pulling Louis right into his arms to kiss him, delicately fingering his hat to tinkle the bell.

Louis moulded easily against him, kicking away the pointed shoes he hadn’t gotten to slip on so that he could spin them both around and gently push Harry backwards, to fall on the bed.

As soon as they landed Harry manhandled him underneath his heavier body with a dark look.

“Mmm, Santa thinks you’ve been a very naughty elf.”

“He does?” Louis squirmed, succeeding in only pressing their bodies closer together. “Does that mean I’m gonna be punished then?”

Harry smirked, fingers searching for a way inside his tunic. Once he’d released the toggles one by one with dimples tucked into his cheeks, he licked into the hollow of Louis' collarbone and sweetly sucked a red bruise into the skin.

His eyes flicked to Louis’ face, Louis’ head thrown back to expose his neck in his pleasure, pulse visible in the veins there.

“Does Santa's naughty Elf _like_ being punished?” Harry asked, pressing his thickening heat into Louis' hip.

“Is that a present in your sack, or are you just that excited to see me?” Louis panted, lowering his chin to meet his gaze.

Their eyes met in a hot clash and they both melted into giggles; Harry dragging his body over Louis’ a bit to kiss him quiet.

“Damn sassy elves,” Harry mumbled as Louis tugged off his falling Santa hat and tossed it away, thumbing the fake beard.

“Not sure this is doing it for me.”

Harry peered down Louis' body to the evident ridge stretching through his candy cane tights.

“Hmm, so I see...” Harry arched a brow, grinning as Louis peeled off his beard.

When they kissed again this time it felt sweeter somehow. Soft and intimate in a way that had only come from years of being together, of learning everything about each other and becoming co-dependent.

It wasn’t any less powerful than the first time they had kissed, leading to _more._ If anything Harry felt more effected by it. Wanted Louis more because of it.

 Louis wriggled underneath him again, struggling out of his tunic as he eyed the swell between Harry’s thighs.

“Ooh Santa...you won’t be able to fit down the chimney unless I lighten your load...”

Harry groaned, hiding his face in Louis' neck.

“Lou, that was terrible!”

“Oi!” Louis poked him in the side. “I thought I kinda... _sleighed_. Get it..?”

Harry growled and his hands tugged suddenly at Louis' tights, fingers ripping into the fragile nylon in his haste to get Louis naked. The fabric laddered, Louis manhandled into being pinned down, wrists stretched above him as Harry licked over his rib  cage and tongued at his nipple. The flutter of his soft lashes against Louis' skin had Louis squirming, pinned in place.

“That’s what does it for you? Bad puns?” He tried to sound cutting but the truth was, Harry’s weight holding him down was far too arousing. Along with his ripped clothes.

“Fuck, yeah.” Harry’s smile was very slow and sexy; his eyes staring intensely into Louis'. “Talk dirty to me, Lou..”

“Alright,” Louis reached up to flick the bell on the tip of his elf hat. “Jingle my bell, Santa...”

“Okay, that’s it...” Harry knelt up to pull the ripped tights completely off, Louis' white boxer-briefs flung away after.

Their eyes caught again as Louis' hand slid inside Harry’s jacket and onto his hot skin, but as Harry went to undress, Louis stopped him with a mischievous wink.

“So Santa...you’re getting on the chimney TOP tonight I see?” He commented in a husky voice.

Harry hesitated,  biting his lip.

“Is...is that okay? I know you usually top, but...”

“Mmm, I think we kinda share that really...and what kind of elf would I be if I didn’t give you this? It’s the season of giving after all...”

Harry blinked, watching as Louis pressed his hand against the front of Harry’s Santa trousers to feel his heat. Harry huffed and his hips jerked into the touch, earning an accusation of “Eager,” from Louis.

Harry suddenly flicked his eyes to him, sucking in a gasp.

“The rug!”

Louis frowned, eyes dipping to his own dick which curved up strongly for attention.

“What?”

“Since you like being naughty, little elf,” Harry scrambled off the bed and reached for him, grasping him around the waist and hauling him over his shoulder. “Ho, ho, ho!” He added as he strode into the hall to carry Louis back down the stairs.

“Oi!” Louis complained, wriggling in his hold until they were back downstairs in the living room and when Harry let him down he adjusted his hat with a tinkle.

Harry had lit the fake wood fire on his way in, apparently, a thick cream faux-fur bearskin laid out over the carpet.

“Oh,” Louis swallowed.

Harry glanced at him with a brow-arch.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis moved toward the warmth, kneeling down and twisting to look at Harry. “How does Santa want me?” He asked.

The answer was on all fours. Harry stretched him slowly on his fingers, soothed him with his tongue and had him trembling and weak when he fucked into him; Louis’ elbows giving way so that he pressed his forearms to the rug instead.

“Fuck.” Everything suddenly felt monumental and amazing. It felt like the world was on fire and he was going up in flames with it.

“Trying to,” Harry mumbled, sliding out and thrusting back in, Louis quivering around him.

“Doing a pretty good job of it,” Louis assured breathily,  squirming a little.

“Only pretty good?” Louis could hear his pout.

And then Harry grasped his hips, laying himself over Louis' back and coaxing the thick jut of Louis' arousal into his palm with a deep hum.

“Know what I’m dreaming of, Lou?”

Louis breathed in deep, heat flaring through the core of his body as Harry settled deep inside him, his new position requiring him to only rock his hips to have Louis weak and panting. The added bonus of his big hand working Louis over was making Louis' toes curl, shaking his sweaty fringe from his forehead.

“I’m dreaming of a _white_ Christmas, Lou. You gonna snow all over me?”

Louis choked, hips pushing forward to encase himself in Harry’s hand but the move was chased by Harry’s shrouding body, still thrusting into him with soft, low sounds of pleasure and hot brushes of his breath against Louis' neck.

“I’d like to roast _your_ chestnuts on the open fire,” Harry added when Louis remained speechless, moaning at the fill of Harry inside him.

“Thought I was the pun master,” Louis complained in a whisper, Harry’s hand and soft kisses to his shoulders tipping him closer to the edge. “ _Fuck,_ ” he gasped, clenching at Harry's heat.

“Better than pretty good, yet?”

“Joy to the world,” Louis murmured. “Hallelujah.”

He felt Harry’s huff fall on the back of his neck, making him shiver as he imagined the smirk gracing his lips. Harry’s hand quickened on his dick, the soft fabric of his Santa costume brushing Louis’ thighs and waist, reminding him that Harry was fucking him with his costume bottoms pulled half way down and the jacket flapped open. If anyone approached the window to look in they’d think that Santa had turned bad.

The idea brought a breathy gasp from Louis' lips just as Harry moaned deeply enough for Louis to feel the vibration of it.

“It’s gonna snow, alright,” Louis muttered, body going rigid before pulsing steadily, jerking with each burst of come that shot stickily onto the fur of the rug.

Harry shuffled closer, tucking his knees right behind Louis' as he fucked in hard, his own release dragging whines from his throat as he pumped into Louis’ body.

They sank forward, Louis pleasantly crushed under Harry's weight as he moaned softly, still snugly encased inside Louis.

“Santa, baby,” Louis sighed.

“Um.” Harry cleared his throat, Louis twisting his head but unable to see since Harry had curled up on his back.

“What is it, Harold?”

“Well...l um...# _all I want for Christmas is Lou_ #,” he sang low and lazy, pressing a kiss against Louis' spine.

Louis chucked out a breath, eyeing the wet mess he’d left on the rug.

“Hark, the Harold angel sings,” he mused, earning a groan from behind him and Harry rolled off his back to cuddle him close for a kiss.

And Louis couldn't explain why but _Christmas kisses were always the best._

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
